


To This Day

by TalBT



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Consensual, Light Angst, M/M, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 09:58:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8840182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalBT/pseuds/TalBT
Summary: Martin finds himself pregnant and alone.His baby's father doesn't want to know, but someone much closer to home may.Angst with some fluff.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Alpha/Omega verse, no non/con involved, everything that takes place is completely consensual.
> 
> Describes a person dealing with the emotions of being pregnant and the baby's father being uninterested.

Martin groaned with relief as he toed his trainers off. He reached beside himself for the grabber he’d been using for the last six weeks, his bump suddenly seeming to bloom overnight with the result that he could no longer see his feet, bend to pick anything up or lie in the bath for fear of not having the strength to drag himself back out. His years of manning-with-a-vanning (he allowed himself a small chuckle at the made up phrase) had left with him with muscles-a-plenty and a wiry strength but not even he could contend with having his centre of gravity shifted so vastly and greatly.  
“Not that I’m blaming you, little one” he declared to his stomach, cradling himself. “I wouldn’t swap you for anything. I can’t wait to meet you and start our adventures together.” He clamped his teeth together and screwed up his eyes to prevent the tears pricking at his eyes. The sudden wave of sorrow skewered his heart so deeply he felt the baby kick within, the distress causing both of their heart rates to increase.  
Martin hugged himself tighter and whispered “I’m sorry. Hey, I’m sorry, that’s okay sweet one, calm down. Mommy’s fine.” He couldn’t hold the swell of tears anymore and they gushed down his angular jaw. The baby kicked again. “Shush, shhhh,” Martin sobbed, consoling his own soul as much as the soul in his stomach. His shoulders shook, the sobs giving way to a voice that sounded like a herd of wild beasts taking down their prey. He slammed the grabber on the floor, trainer and all, and let himself sag against the pillows supporting his back. He wished yet again that he could afford one of the retractable chairs that would allow him to mechanically lower himself to a comfortable lying position. He sobbed some more, that this is what he most craved right now showed just how pathetic he felt he’d allowed himself to become.

Martin slowly opened his eyes and rolled his shoulders. His chest ached from crying, as did his head. He was unsure how long he’d slept for, as thoroughly un-rested as he’d felt since his second trimester. He looked down at his stomach. Baby seemed to have calmed down so Martin the sleep must’ve been restful for them, he concluded, smiling. (Martin had long ago decided to stop trying to assign gender, only an individual truly knows what or who they are.)  
He pushed himself up with a grunt and made his way to the kitchen – what a grand name to give an area of his tiny bedsit! It was a corner unit housing a sink, a small two ring burner with oven just large enough to cook a pizza. Below, a combined washer-drier. The full-size fridge freezer stood to the right and partially blocked the largest window in the room. Patrick had bought it when Martin had informed him he was about to become a father. His monthly cheques helped pay for the essentials of preparing for a baby but didn’t make up for his speedy exit when he accompanied Martin to his first ultra sound citing “I’m too young for this responsibility. It was only meant to be a bit of fun!” Martin snorted with derision, the man was forty-three, although it had become apparent his emotional age wasn’t even half of that!  
“That’s not fair” he chided himself, “there are plenty of emotionally mature twenty-one year olds who wouldn’t abandon the Omega carrying their child.” He opened the freezer and took out the tub of organic chocolate ice-cream, another monthly delivery courtesy of Patrick. Martin would make out the shopping list and Patrick would arrange immediate home-delivery. “It’s no trouble at all. Only too happy to help.” He genuinely believed he was helping. Martin snorted again.  
“I don’t want you eating that crap you lived on in the student house, I want you to be as healthy as can be for our child. That’s why you’re giving up that bloody silly job with the van.”  
Martin had argued that seeing as how he’d abandoned the two of them Patrick had no ownership of his body – Martin hated that term, even in today’s enlightened view of Omega rights an Alpha could still supersede the Omega if they felt the Omega wasn’t being careful – and that Martin could do as he pleased!  
“I’m not saying forever, although how you’ll find the time with a baby is beyond me, but just whilst you’re pregnant. After that you’ll have complete power over your body again. Who knows, you may not need to work if you find yourself a sugar daddy with your new found looks.”  
Martin had questioned whether Patrick would take any part in looking after the child. “I’ll see the nipper, sure, but life as it is, y’know.” Martin had no doubt that his life of living off Daddy’s hard-earnt money wouldn’t be impinged by fatherhood. When Patrick senior had discovered he was to become a Grandad he tripled Patrick’s already eye-watering monthly offer. £12,000 was deposited into his account each month accompanied by a text that read ‘Please use some of it to find a better place for you and my grandchild.’ Martin replied each time ‘That money is for the baby, we can manage as we are. Thanks xx’. He’d never known such generosity. His own family had never gone without but hadn’t fully settled into the middle-class wage bracket either.  
Martin dug the spoon into the dark frozen milk and smiled yet again at the abundance of real chocolate swirls generously making up the high calorie content at and once again revisited the memory of handing Patrick Snr the ultrasound picture and murmuring “Hello, granddad.” Patrick Snr let out a surprised laugh-cry which resulted in sounding like an elephant choking on a peanut. He pulled Martin into a hug so tight he nearly folded in half length-ways. Martin returned the hug, his panic quickly fading as he realized that at least one of the Mulholland men was happy about the news.  
Martin closed his eyes at the sudden rush of lust in his groin as his mind replayed the crackling of the wood burning in the fire, the jazz playing quietly in the background and the moon shining in through the window. Patrick Snr had called it a perfect November evening when Martin enquired at the lack of artificial lighting in the room. The moon had been so bright they’d had no problem looking at the ultrasound together, and Patrick Snr once again pulled Martin close. “Thank you for this. I don’t know what my stupid son did right to have you in his life and I can’t believe even his stupidity could plummet such depths as to let you go, but should you ever need anything then don’t hesitate to let me know.”  
Martin sniffled at the heartfelt sentiment and tried to hide his tears. Patrick had held him tighter still and Martin suddenly smelt the scent of an Alpha. In truth, Patrick Jnr had never been that strong an Alpha, when he was a child he was often confused for a Beta. This Patrick could never be confused for anything other than a strong, virile Alpha.  
“Mmmm, you smell so good” Patrick Snr murmured into Martin’s ear as he gently swayed them in time to the music.  
“As do you” Martin replied, crooking his head ever so slightly to nose behind Patrick’s ear, Patrick craning his head to allow the Omega to scent him. Martin felt himself start to leak.  
Patrick growled – actually growled – as the Omega’s natural reactions mingled with the air. Martin couldn’t fight his skewed gender’s nature and bared his long, porcelain neck to the Alpha. Patrick had inhaled so deeply Martin thought he was going to take his ear along with the rich, heady aroma. Patrick ground against Martin before he could stop himself.  
Patrick snapped open his eyes and looked Martin squarely on. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate. I can’t help myself, you smell so good.” Martin leant his head back once more and this time Patrick licked his scent gland.  
There had always been an unspoken attraction between the two. Patrick was early sixties with a trim figure and neatly trimmed moustache. His hair hadn’t given over to the ageing process in terms of colour but had definitely started to thin. He dressed in a style befitting the CEO of a company, slacks and shirts outside of the office, expensive shirts, shoes and suits inside the boardroom. Martin had seen him in a café once and had revisited the image infrequently. He’d never let on to himself, but it had helped with Patrick Jnr on a couple of occasions. Martin’s eyes fluttered closed.  
Martin groaned and pressed himself wantonly into Patrick. This ranked ludicrously highly on the “what the bloody hell are you doing?!!!!” list but Martin didn’t care. Patrick wanted this as much as Martin did.  
Patrick kissed his scent gland this time then actually nibbled it. Martin let out an open-mouth groan. Patrick Jnr was very much a couple of tugs on his cock before lubing himself up and fucking into Martin for five minutes until he came. Martin had become accustomed to getting himself off. Even during heat he’d been a lousy lover and even lousier Alpha. Martin had to repeatedly ask for food and water, there had been no gentle murmurings in the throes of passion or gentle caresses before the next round, Martin had to call him when he was ready as Patrick Jnr would sleep next door so he could play his Xbox whenever he wanted to.  
Patrick Snr gently ran his hands up Martin’s sides before taking his mouth in the gentlest kiss Martin had ever known. His hands had gently carded through Martin’s hair before resting to cradle his head. Martin had felt himself leak down his legs. He fisted his own hands into Patrick’s shirt front. Patrick’s lips met his time and again before Martin found the nerve – to this day he has no idea where or how! – to allow his tongue to press furtively against Patrick’s lips. Patrick had opened his mouth to respond, his tongue peaking out equally as unsure. Martin had pressed himself to Patrick and Patrick had broken the kiss.  
“You’re under no obligation to do this at all, or go any further. I should have approached this more gently. I’m sorry.”  
Martin cupped Patrick’s jaw and kissed him again. “No-one has ever treated me like this. You’ve been so gentle and kind to me. I want this, I want you. But only if you do too.”  
Martin opened his eyes to find Patrick’s small but kind green eyes staring back. “I want to make love to you.” Martin had felt the impressive erection harden further against his leg.  
“Please.” Martin leant his head to scent Patrick once more.  
Patrick released his hold on Martin, took his hand and whispered “Follow me”.


End file.
